The Phantom and the Singer
by youllbeinmyheart1997
Summary: Listen to the music of the night as Jazz learns from a mysterious Phantom in the secret rooms of the Opera Populaire. Starring Jazz as Christine, Prowl as the Phantom, and Blaster as Raoul. Rating may go up if I go into detail.


**A/N: I know I should be working on other stories, but I couldn't get this out of my head! So Jazz, Blaster, and Prowl will be taking the places of Christine, Raoul, and the Phantom respectively. And that's basically it. If you dot like this kind of fanfiction, then leave now.**

 **I accept constructive criticism, but I do not accept flames. Any and all flames will be used by Wheeljack in a very uncontrolled and unstable way.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or Phantom of the Opera. They belong to their respective owners.**

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 _*Cybertron, Polyhex, a few vorns after the end of the first Great War*_

The Opera Populaire used to be a beautiful building, with its tall arches, golden statues, and the biggest stage on the planet. It was well known for it's detailed set pieces, the best dancers and singers in Polyhex.

However, now it was a desolate building with tattered seats, and a dusty stage.

 _'This is supposedly the first time it's doors have been opened since that night all those years ago.'_ Blaster, a minor political figure, once-vibrant red paint now dull, looked up wistfully at the building. His personal nurse, Fixit, and his personal assistants Eject and Rewind, we're standing behind him, as he slowly walked into the building.

 _'Humph, and all for an auction that should've happened vorns ago.'_

The dust inside the former opera house made his intakes stutter a bit, and Fixit reached hand out to him. He waved her off and turned his attention to the auction.

A green and brown mech was running this auction, and was actually makong a reasonable profit. An antique here, a poster there, and he was raking in the credits. At the moment, he was selling a poster for an old opera called Hannibal. That got a reasonable 30 credits.

Blaster was now looking around at the other bidders and his eyes landed on one particular mech. He was orange and red, with a yellow chevron. It was obvious he had aged well, but he was the same age as Blaster, if a bit younger. Blaster faintly recalled him having a chassis decoration before.

The mech turned around as if sensing he was being watched, and he spotted Blaster. He seemed faintly surprised, but soon shook off and nodded at him, then turned his attention back to the auction.

"Item 666: a metal music box, in the shape of a barrel organ. This item was found in the depths of the opera house. Still in working order, mechs and femmes." The green and brown mech announced.

One of his workers held up the music box, and it started playing a simple tune, but it's melody pulled him back to one of the most important times of his life.

"Starting at 10 credits."

Blaster raised his servo. "15 creds, thank you sir. Do I hear 20?"

The red and orange raised his servo next. "Ah, 20 creds, for Rodimus Prime. Do I hear 25?"

Blaster stubbornly raised his servo again. He wanted that music box, if it was the last thing he ever did.

This went on until 60 creds when Rodimus finally relented and allowed Blaster to get the slagging music box. The mech holding it came down from the stage and placed it gently in his weathered servos

 _ **A collector's piece indeed**_

 _ **Every detail exactly as he said**_

 _ **Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?**_

"Lot 667. A chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair if the Phantom of the Opera: a mystery never fully explained." Swindle said. "We are told, mechs and femmes, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new plasma light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look like when re-assembled. Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination, gentlemen?"

The workers removed a tarp from the beautiful chandelier, memories of long ago flooding back into Blaster processor. Memories of thousands of years ago, when everything was right in the world. And memories of that beautiful bot with a beautiful and haunting voice, without the use of any other equipment. Memories of when himself, the opera house, and the boy he loved were in their prime. And of the phantom that nearly took his beloved Jazz away from him.

* * *

 _ **This trophy from our saviors, from our sAAAAAAaaaaviooooooooors... froooom the enslaaaviing foooorce... o-of TAAAAAAAAAAARN!**_

Blackarachnia screeched, as the final dress rehearsal went on in the Opera Populaire. Almost every bot in the hall, even the cleaning bots, who were wiping down the seats in the hall, winced at the horrible voice. However, she was the star of this show, so they had to put up with it. At least the chorus was halfway decent.

 _ **With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration we greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation!**_

The femme chorus sang, dancing across the stage.

 ** _The trumpets of Tarn resound ! Hear, Tarnians, now and tremble! Hark to our step on the ground!_**

The mech chorus sang.

 _ **Hear the drums -Optimus comes!**_

They all sang loudly.

Then, Orion Pax, the mech lead singer came out in full costume.

 _ **Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Tar's far-reaching grasp**_

"No, no, no! For the last time, Orion! It is 'Tarn' not 'Tar'!" Ratchet, the play's director, scolded Orion. He was rather stressed because it was the day before opening night and Orion was STILL letting his Tyger Pax twang getting the better of him.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. Tarn, not Tar. I will remember next time." Orion assured him.

At that moment, the owner of the theater, Alpha Trion, entered from stage right, leading three unfamiliar bots. "This way, gentlebots, this way. Rehearsals, as you see, are under way, for a new production of Chalumeau's 'Optimus'."

"Primus below, Alpha Trion! I'm trying to rehearse here!" Ratchet threw his hands in the air.

"Ratchet, Arcee." Arcee, the choreographer, turned from where she was making last minute adjustments to the dancing corps. Next to her, two young bots who were part of the dancing corps. They both had on the play's garb for prisoners, which is what the dancers were in this scene. One of them was a black and yellow minibot. The other was also a minibot, but he was black, white and silver. He had a bright blue visor and a graceful body, perfect for dancing.

"I'm sure many of you have the rumors of my retirement." Alpha Trion said, gathering the attention of everyone onstage. "I can now tell you these are all true."

A murmur went through the crowd.

"And now, I would like to introduce you to the new owners of Opera Populaire, Sir Sideswipe and Sir Sunstreaker." Polite applause scattered around the stage.

"I'm sure you have all heard of their recent success on the arts." Alpha Trion said.

"Entrepreneurship, actually." Sideswipe said. "He painted and I sold them."

"They must be rich," Blackarachnia leered at them.

"And we are deeply honored to introduce the new patron." Sunstreaker said, motioning to the third bot behind them. "The Viscount of Polyhex."

One of the dancers, the black and silver one, perked up after hearing the new Patron's name. "It's Blaster."

The other dancer, the yellow and black one, turned to look as well.

"When my creator was alive, at the house by the Rust Sea. I guess you could say that we were childhood sweethearts." The black and silver one said, nostalgia written all over his face. "He called me Little Lotte."

"Jazz, he's so handsome." The yellow gushed.

"Mah parents and I are honored to support all the arts, especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire." Blaster announced, a certain twang emerging from his voice.

"Gentlebots, Signora Blackarachnia, our lead soprano for five seasons." Alpha Trion introduced, as Blackarachnia approached the Viscount, as she got her servo kissed. "And Señor Orion Pax." Orion nodded his head politely.

"Ah believe Ah'm keeping ya from yer rehearsal. Ah'll be here t'night to share yer great triumph." Blaster smirked at Blackarachnia.

The Viscount then made a flourishing exit, right passed the bot that was supposedly his childhood sweetheart.

"He wouldn't recognize meh," Jazz said.

"He just didn't see you!" The yellow one said. "Come on, it's our turn to rehearse."

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 **A/N: Done with the first chapter! What do you guys think? Please let me know in a review!**


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